Coming Home
by Azar443
Summary: Emily goes home, and even the thought of Doyle can't wear her down; not when her love is waiting for her. Episode tag to "It Takes a Village".


_**First, I really want to thank Kavi Leighanna (you may not read this though) for giving me great, great advice in writing. Hope this is better than the previous ones. Yet another take on Emily's return to the BAU. In this fic, she's been with Hotch a few months before being 'killed' and they're taking it**_** real_ slow._**_** Guys, the usual; read, review and enjoy. :)**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own CM, nor do I own the song 'Coming Home' by Ramin Karimloo.**_

* * *

_Our love is the one thing that keeps us; We will be alright_

_In some other world you think you lost me; You need to know_

_I'm coming home. I'm coming home_

Emily hurriedly shoved her clothes and belongings into her suitcase even as she strapped her gun securely to her side. Adrenaline streamed through her the minute the phone call came to tell her that Doyle was in FBI custody and that Declan was missing. Then _his_ call came, and the only thing that had been on her mind since she got the call 15 minutes ago, was that she was going home to him, to her love.

She had immediately notified her handler who proceeded to arrange her flight home and provide her with the necessary information and files; on Doyle, on _anyone_ who could be involved.

Slinging her carry on carelessly and dragging her suitcase behind her as she raced down the stairs, not bothering with the elevator; she slid into the black SUV waiting outside her apartment for her. The driver, a man Emily vaguely recognized as one of the nameless faces who was responsible for securing her stay in Paris, didn't say a word to her as they sped off into the night towards the airport. The brunette sat ramrod straight, refusing to relax or lower her guard down. There was plenty of time to do that once she was back in Virginia and in his arms.

She all but ran to the jet the moment she stepped out of the car, but the strict upbringing her mother ingrained in her that propriety was never, _ever_ to be ignored even in the most nail-biting situation saw to it that she walked gracefully in her heels towards her handler. Agent Chandler, a sharp eyed red head currently in her 40s nodded once at her and shook Emily's hand firmly before letting the younger woman board the jet. The latter tried to ignore the doubtful look in Chandler's eyes; she needed the faith right now, needed to know that Declan _will_ be found and that she could _finally_ put Doyle and her past behind her.

Settling her head against the plush leather of her seat, she sighed and closed her eyes. The adrenaline was finally wearing off and even though Emily had done nothing but pack and impatiently await her return home, she felt as though she had run a marathon. The humming of the outside activities as the ground crew prepared the jet for takeoff lulled her to a semi-conscious state, but before she could drift off to sleep, her phone vibrated and startled her, reminding her that she still hadn't switched the device off.

_Hurry home, I miss you. Take care._

Emily laughed softly as her fingers flew to reply him. _I can't wait to be home. I love you._ Biting her lip, she hesitated a little before determinedly hitting the 'send' button. God knows how much she loved Aaron Hotchner, but their relationship was fairly new and she didn't want to spook the furiously private man, who seemed to clam up even more after Foyet and Haley's death. They had taken things slow, much to slow in her opinion but she loved him too much to give up on him.

They had only been together for a few months; weren't even sleeping together before she was 'killed' by Doyle. She had been worried that he'd pulled away again if, _when _she returned and was immensely glad that he didn't. Privately, she realized just how much Aaron cared about her to _not _take the easy way out and distance himself for her. He could have easily claimed that he had found someone while she was gone, or that he couldn't wait for her. But he did. He waited patiently, hoping and _knowing _that she would come back to him. And it warmed her heart to know that, though he was slow to let her in, he would never let her go now.

She didn't know how he would respond to her declaration with love; not badly, in the very least, she hoped.

She didn't realize just how tightly wound up she was until she jumped when her phone buzzed once more. A relieved laugh escaped her as her joy bubbled and overflowed her full heart. She stared at the screen, a silly grin slowly lighting up her face as she read and reread the message, ingraining it in her memory and heart.

_I love you too._

The jet finally took off from the ground, and Emily felt her heart soar along with the metallic bird, smiling as she took one final look at the glowing lights of Paris in the night. As much as she couldn't wait to go home, she would miss the city. How many times has she sat in a café watching lovers stroll the streets and miss being in her own lover's arms? How many times has the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower, just visible outside her apartment comforted her to sleep? She whispered a silent thank you to the gentle city as the ground below grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared from view. One day, she'd be back, and maybe she wouldn't be alone this time.

Finally feeling her brain gently nudge her to sleep, Emily Prentiss acquiesced to her weary body's demands and closed her eyes once more, sleep fogging her thoughts and enveloping her in a hazy blanket of dreams and hopes for the future. Already, she could see a little boy the exact replica of her dark haired lover, and another, younger child playing together as she and her lover trailed behind. They were a family, and, as Emily directed a fervent prayer to whatever higher being that was listening, that this fantasy would be a reality, soon. Dreaming and loving could wait until she set eyes on his dear face, but first, she would go home and into Aaron's waiting arms.

_I'm coming home, my love._


End file.
